We decided on the way that we would pretend to be a married couple for the duration of Pedro’s visit. Here in Uganda, homosexuality is illegal and highly taboo. People spend years in prison for being openly gay, and the government is currently debating whether or not to institute the death penalty. Needless to say, Pedro and his boyfriend, Gabriel, are planning to subtract the “boy” from their status while here. So, I get to pretend to be married for a week.
After arriving in Jinja on Friday, we enjoyed a leisurely dinner, at which I introduced him to the rafting instructors. We all had a great time talking, and the rafting guys convinced me and my “husband” to go out dancing with them again. Thankfully, Pedro and I were sharing a tent instead of sleeping in the dorms, so I finished the night in a nice cozy sleeping bag instead of the passenger's seat of a Honda like last time.
Saturday was another amazing day on the river. Rafting was a lot of fun, but felt much more dangerous than kayaking with Ibra. In the kayak, we (he) were much more in control and didn’t flip once. In the raft, however, you’re bouncing around like popcorn when you hit the rapids. We only flipped on the last rapid of the day, but I was tossed out six times. I think I swam more that day than all my years of teaching swimming, but it was still great fun. I met some fascinating people and enjoyed my time with my husband.
Sunday, Pedro and I did some shopping in town before Larry picked us up and took us to the TATS Academic Museum. Museum is a bit of an overstatement, actually, because what he took us to was a hill in the middle of nowhere. I was tired and very irritated when we arrived, and then found out that I was going to have to walk all the way to the top of this hill because the road didn’t go that far. At that point, all I could think about was going to sleep after killing Larry. As we approached the top, Larry handed me a sign with my school’s name on it. I was a little confused until we reached the top, and I saw the dozens of signs in the ground around me atop this gorgeous hill overlooking Lake Victoria, and my mood was immediately lifted. A young boy took the sign from my hand, smiled, and led me to the place where we dug a hole together in the rocky mountainside, and I left a piece of Collinsville High School in Uganda. Though I’m not always excited to say I work at CHS, that was a really proud moment.
I taught on Monday and Tuesday of this week, and the students here never cease to amaze me. I gave a simple presentation on basic English to some eager students at Kampala University, and talked about poetry with some seniors at Mengo Secondary School. The kids were so grateful and happy to see me, and several of them wouldn’t let me leave without giving me a gift.
After teaching on Tuesday, I went to visit my friends Henry and Patrick again. The make masks and other crafts for fun and to stay out of trouble as they put it, and I had asked them to make a few for me to take home. I arrived at Henry’s house, and he and his mother insisted on feeding me a lavish lunch. His mother had been sick with malaria the first time I visited, and she was thankfully in much better shape when I saw her. She runs a catering business out of her home, and her cooking was almost as good as Dora’s.
When we had finished eating, Patrick asked me if I was ready to get to work. I gave him a look that said “Huh?” and he smiled and lead me to their
workshop outside. He told me that if I wanted to take some masks home with me, I had to help
make them! So, I spent the rest of the afternoon working on the paper mache and painting, an unexpected treat. While we worked, the guys told me about all the little projects they work on to avoid the lifestyle so many of their peers are sucked into. Alcoholism, HIV, unplanned pregnancy, and flat out irresponsible behavior is pretty much the norm for boys in their early twenties, and these guys know they’re better off avoiding all of it. So, they don’t date, don’t go to bars, and make music and art between acrobatics gigs. Pretty impressive, if you ask me. Patrick tells me that the masks will be ready on Thursday, and I can’t wait!This morning, I visited the deaf school for the last time to see the earrings being made by the
students. Again, they were nice enough to let me help, and I made a lovely blue pair that Iga, the art teacher, will sell at the market. A little boy drew a picture of me on the chalkboard while I was working, and was really excited to show me at the end of the day. His name is Marc Anthony, and he was found naked and beaten on the side of the road about six months prior to my visit. Kids with disabilities are often rejected, abused, and even killed by their parents, so little Marc Anthony was very fortunate to be found. He’s a bit mischievous, but he told me I was beautiful before I left. I think he’s going to be quite a ladies’ man someday. I’m now sitting in a café in Jinja, waiting on my rafting friends to meet me so that we can hang out one last time. It’s strange to think that I’m leaving in only a week, and that it’s time to start saying my goodbyes. This place has become a home to me in so many ways, and I will be truly sad to leave. But, I still have one more safari to Murchison Falls this weekend, so I won’t get depressed just yet.
I want to send a quick shout out to my Aunt Teresa and my Uncle Perry for reading. I’m really glad I get to stay in touch with you guys and everyone else while I’m here. We are all so lucky to have the resources to talk to the people we love whenever we want. One thing I’ve learned is that so few have that luxury, and I will never take it for granted again.
Much love,
T
amazing!
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